


Drew-per-Natural #1: Message in a Haunted Mansion

by Hobbit4Lyfe



Series: Drew-Per-Natural [1]
Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games), Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit4Lyfe/pseuds/Hobbit4Lyfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam Winchester go to San Francisco, California to investigate a haunted mansion while posing as handymen for the mansion's renovation. Part 1 of the Drew-per-Natural series. Moved from FanFiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Cass,  
Stormy San Francisco. We’re staying in this old Victorian mansion. This room we’re in is full of old Chinese furnishings and some interesting knick-knacks.  
The owner of the house, Rose Green, asked us to come out and help her with some renovation work (we’ve been posing as handymen this time). She and her friend, Abby Sideris, hope to turn the place into a bed and breakfast by next month.  
But from what we’ve gathered, Rose isn’t sure if she can open in time. Ever since they started the renovations, they’ve had a lot of accidents. Could it be just bad luck, or is there something more sinister at work?  
We’ll find out, and we’ll fix it.  
Dean  
(And Sam says hi, too.)


	2. Abby and Rose

4653 California Street…  
San Francisco, California…  
The Chinese Room, The Golden Gardenia

“OK, so we’re here,” Sam says. “Now what?”  
“We go find Rose to get the deal on what’s going on here,” I say.  
Sam walks over to the fireplace in the room. “I can’t believe she stuck us in the same room. What are we, little kids?” He picks up this jade dragon statue, reads the plaque on the base. “’Daughters of diligence earn the gold of nine dragons.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“I dunno, Sam,” I reply, looking at a tapestry next to the door on the opposite side of the room. “Can you believe this poem, though? ‘Listen, my child, to this story of dreams,/ And know that the beginning is more difficult than it seems./ When the ten daughters are reunited in order,/ When the four-sided box loses its border./ When the eye of the Phoenix is in your hand,/ When the bird of fire can see again./ When the moon sleeps and the sun plays,/ The king of the sky will shine his rays./ And hidden beneath a river of colors/ Will lie a gate to golden wonders.’”  
“Do you think that has anything to do with the stuff going on here? It almost sounds prophetic.”  
“Who knows?” I open the door next to me and leave the room, my brother trailing behind me.

We walk down the hall and knock on a random door. A woman answers. Not Rose, but Abby, a brown-haired woman in a lavender sweater, a white shirt, a black skirt, and these huge gold hoop earrings.  
“Ah, you two must be the Winchesters, the new handymen,” she says. “I see you’ve arrived safely from your long journey, but I’m sensing an aura of danger around you.”  
What else is new?  
She continues, “I can tell you’re inquisitive types…”  
And here we have to keep straight faces.  
“…A little skeptical, and that you don’t believe in ghosts.”  
“How do you know we don’t believe in ghosts?” Sam asks.  
“I know many things,” she says. “I know how to communicate with the spirits, and I know things about people that they don’t tell me. Call it intuition, or ESP. The spirits in this house are interested in you, especially since you don’t believe in them.”  
I wanted to shake her and scream, “But we DO believe! That’s why we’re really here!” But I can’t, since that’d blow our cover.  
She finishes, “Watch out. They may give you a rough time just to get your attention.”  
Sam gives me this look that I interpret to mean, “Don’t they always?”  
I ask Abby, “Does your intuition tell you who could be behind these recent accidents?”  
Sam plays off this, “We… don’t want anything to happen to us.”  
“I’m not sure, but for some reason, the name ‘Valdez’ has a strong connection to this mansion.”  
Sarcastically, I tell her, “Well, you’ll be the first to know if we find a ghost floating over our bed.”  
“We?” Sam says, appalled. “You get the floor just for saying that! I’m not sharing a bed!”  
And then Abby goes into scary mode. “Do you dare mock the supernatural? Just bear in mind what I’ve told you about this place. Spirits of the deceased can do unimaginable harm, especially to those who don’t believe.” She calms down. “Now, if you will please excuse me, I need to prepare myself for this evening. At that time, more will be revealed.”  
And she slams the door in our faces. We hear this “om” repeating, so we assume she’s meditating.  
“’What I’ve told you about this place?’ You didn’t tell us shit!” Sam says.  
“But the little she did say about ghosts makes her immediately suspicious, not to mention how she saw right through our aliases.”  
And then we continue down the hall and down a set of servants’ stairs.

Behind a set of double doors on the main floor is the dining room, where Rose, an African-American lady, is sitting at a long table, working on papers, dressed in a red sweater over a white shirt, and jeans.  
“Hello, boys. I’m very glad you could come out here. We can really use your help, seeing how far we are behind schedule. Are you all ready to do some renovation work?” she says when we walk in.  
“We sure are,” Sam says.  
Trying to get a feel for the place, I ask, “This house must have quite a history. What do you know about it?”  
“Not very much, but Abby found some interesting papers that might give us clues about the history of the house. They’re in the parlor, if you want to take a peek. There’s also an old-time saloon in the basement, so it’s possible that the house was once a hotel.”  
Sam continues the questions. “Last night, you mentioned some accidents. What exactly happened?”  
“I don’t know where to begin!” Rose exclaims. “It started out with some small but irritating things. But then the scaffolding collapsed, and just last week, we had a gas leak. I really don’t know whether I can stand much more of this. I would love to have a week without any accidents.”  
Sounds like poltergeists, maybe? I think. “I can understand your frustration, Rose,” I say. “Do you think it’s just bad luck?”  
“I’m not one to believe in bad luck, but it’s one thing after another. Maybe Charlie doesn’t have the expertise for these renovations, but his rates are so affordable. I sometimes wonder, though, if this old house would be worth more burned to the ground.” She sighs. “Enough chit-chat. Time for some work. Take a look in the corner. Those wood tiles should fit inside the inlay pattern on the floor. Abby and I tried for hours, but it’s just too complicated. I’m sorry for not showing you around, but everyone posts their schedule here in the dining room. It’s kind of like command central. Let me know how far you get with that wood puzzle. And thanks again for helping us, boys.”  
Peeking in a drawer in a china cabinet, I notice that Rose has the house insured against fire damage for a million bucks. She's right. Sure would be worth a lot burned down.

After a few minutes, Sam and I figure out the puzzle. As we work, Rose pops out of the room for a bit.  
“It’s a phoenix,” Sam says.  
And so, we tell Rose that we’re done, as soon as she comes back to her chair. I’m not sure how she wasn’t able to figure out how to put it together on her own. It looks exactly like the other phoenix designs around the edges of the room.  
“Wonderful! But now, I’ve got something else for you to do,” she says.  
“That’s what we’re here for,” I say.  
Rose continues, “I set up a ladder upstairs, so you can chip off the broken tiles on the hallway ceiling. You’ll need to look around for a chisel or paint scraper for the job. I’m not sure where Charlie keeps them.”  
“How did you meet Abby?” I ask.  
“She was the drama coach back when I lived in River Heights, and we worked on a couple of plays together. My bid on this house was too low, and she pitched in her savings to help me get the place. If it weren’t for Abby, I couldn’t have afforded this place.”  
Suspicious, Sam asks, “What is Abby planning for tonight?”  
“She’s putting on some kind of séance tonight to contact the ghosts or whatever she thinks is causing all of these accidents.”  
Those never end well. “We can see you’re busy. We’ll let you go,” I say, pulling Sam out of the room.  
“A séance? Really? That’ll go over well!” he says.  
“Yeah, right!”


End file.
